


Jack

by Mustachioedmoose



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Cannibalism, Creepy, Gen, jack the ripper ripped my heart out, murder murder murder murder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-08
Updated: 2020-01-08
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:14:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22167706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mustachioedmoose/pseuds/Mustachioedmoose
Summary: Jack had been a member of the Assassins so many years ago. Jacob Frye had taken him and his mother off the streets, fed them, clothed them. But it had been Templars that had murdered his mother, taken her from Jack. It had been Jacob's fault. All of it. Jacob's wife, Catey, had been the one bright light in Jack's life, and he would do anything for her. Anything.
Kudos: 5





	Jack

**Author's Note:**

> So this belongs near the end of the Jacob fic that I've posted before, but just like in everything I write, it comes in chunks with no connector pieces because I have to adult far too often. But I really like this bit and hope y'all do too!

Jack loved to play with the pretty little doll’s hair.

It had been an accident. Just an accident.

He had thought he had seen Catey standing there in the twilight, his darling Catherine. Jacob’s wife. She had married him in error. He had kept their secret for years. That she loved him, not Jacob. He could remember all the stolen glances and smiles they’d exchanged over the years, all the secret meetings that had been made under the guise of training. It had been Jacob that had kept them apart.

But it had not been Catey he had seen in the alleyway. He had known as soon as the pretty little doll began to scream when he grabbed her. The voice was different. It was not the sweet, sultry tones of his Catey, but a harsh, grating shriek. And besides, his Catey would not have screamed. His Catey would have welcomed his touch.

It was their child. Their _spawn_.

He felt a burning hatred erupt in his chest as he looked at the doll’s face, lying there lifeless on the cold stone floor. It had been her fault. She had been born in sin, with half her blood made up of Jacob. Disgusting, sullied, imperfect. It had been her fault. Her fault. He’d had to slit her throat to stop the screaming, the damned, horrible screaming. Such a delicious find, though. Though her flesh was rotting away in flaps and strips, she looked just like her mother in the dim light of the dungeon. Her hair was redder than blood, like her mothers, her eyes just as blue, her skin just as smooth and perfect. And now she was his, his pretty porcelain doll, his and his alone to play with.

But he would not be satisfied until he found his Catey. He grew very impatient. He had thought that with Jacob in his possession and out of the way, Catey would have emerged to confess her love. But she did not. Instead, the twin, Evie, was throwing wrenches in all his plans. She would have to be next. If she was stopping Catey from coming into his arms, she would be disposed of.

To ease his displeasure, he had taken off a few of the pretty little doll’s fingers and toes, fried them up nice, and tried to feed them to Jacob. It wasn’t as though she was using them anymore. Much to his annoyance, Jacob refused to eat. Jack beat him and still he refused. He beat and beat and beat, and Jacob still refused. There Jacob lay across the cell from him, unconscious on the hard stone, blood seeping from his eye and nose. Jack hated him. With every fiber of his being, he hated him. Jacob had stolen his mother from him, and then his love. Taking his child away from him was the least Jack could do. And now that he had moved the girl’s body into Jacob’s cell, they could at least keep each other company. Jack could almost hear the screams of terror out of Jacob’s throat when he would wake and find that his daughter’s body was there with him and it delighted him to his very core.

It would be a shame to waste such pretty little fingers. Jack picked one up and bit down, sucking the meat clean off the bone. She tasted intoxicatingly sweet, just like he imagined Catey would. He shivered with pleasure. He had to have his Catey, now that he had tasted the fruit of her loins. How many more brats Jacob had produced with Catey, he did not know. But if cutting them all down was the way to bring Catey into his arms, so be it. He could wait. He would wait forever if he had to.


End file.
